


Fly Me to The Moon

by BHRamsay



Category: Bayonetta (Video Games), Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Adult Content, Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BHRamsay/pseuds/BHRamsay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Blind date gone very right leads our favorite Zeppo with a new friend The Slayers with a new Ally and the bad guys with a dangerous new enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. negotiations

Fly Me to the Moon

_______________________________________________________________________

 

Author: B.H. Ramsay

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I claim nothing, which is what YOU’LL get if you sue me; nothing. Consider yourself disclaimed.

Rating: Mature

Pairings(s): Yes

Dedication: Thanks ever and always to Reikson and Drakependragon ...especially Drake who needed quite a bit of eye bleach after viewing Bayonetta’s Punishment Attacks

Summary: After a blind date gone very, very right, the Scoobies come to terms with a new friend

_______________________________________________________________________

 

History says that the accord between Bayonetta the Umbra Witch and the New Watcher’s Council was one of mutual benefit, allowing both of them to vanquish foes that neither of them would be able to withstand alone.

 

The truth is a little more complicated… but then again… isn’t that always the way it goes?

 

8

9

8

 

Willow squared off against the powerful witch before her, bringing her most powerful abilities to bear.

 

Her resolve face.

 

“I’m sorry, but I have to insist,” the redhead sighed. “Joint custody; you get him on the weekends and the occasional holiday, but Xander’s one of us. We need him here.”

 

“For tactical and logistical support, yes,” Cereza nodded, absently flipping open Sage and inspecting its firing chambers. Maybe she should upgrade a little, show the redhead the benefits of magical weaponry in the modern age. “But you have that lovely little Andrew Wells for that.”

 

“…which doesn’t mean we don’t need them both.” Willow insisted.

 

Not for the first time, Bayonetta sighed. “Then I don’t suppose you’d consider letting me have them both, would you?”

 

Willow only raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

 

“Not at the same time, of course,” Cereza added quickly, making a mental note for a future birthday wish.

 

For his part, Andrew squeaked and hid behind Willow’s chair. Xander’s… rather memorable description of his evening with Bayonetta had left the dedicated geek with no illusions about how he’d fare under similar circumstances.

 

But Willow wasn’t biting. Losing Xander, even temporarily, was bad enough.

 

Losing Andrew to the infamously voracious Umbra Witch was unacceptable.

 

“Experience has shown that Andrew’s not as… accommodating as Xander is,” the redhead said delicately, wondering if she should voice some of her suspicions about the geek’s preferences.

 

Cereza regarded the former villain with some interest, the gleam in her eyes like a pantheress stalking potentially tasty prey.

 

“Give me a week alone with him,” she said finally, smirking. “He’ll be very accommodating after I’ve had my way with him.”

 

“I think you’ll have your hands full with Xander.” Willow shot back.

 

“One can only hope,” the Umbra Witch noted; her voice a picture of lewd intent. Her gloved fingers flexed, reflecting their owner’s desire to take possession of her new boytoy. “Have we come to terms?”

 

“Well… we should work out when and how often we’ll be able to call on you for help...” Willow sighed. “But I’m sure that Xander would love some more alone time. So we’ll let it go for the time being, just as long as we’re agreed that we can call you when we need you.”

 

“Vampires, demons, ancient hell goddesses…” Cereza noted, flipping through a binder filled with reports about Xander and his friends. “This reads as though you lot have almost as much fun as I do. This could be quite entertaining.”

 

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Xander asked miserably from where Cereza was running a high-heeled boot precariously close to his man-parts.

 

“No!” Cereza and Willow chorused together.

 

Buffy had to admit, she was enjoying Xander’s discomfort. “So, you go on a blind date that you made over the Internet and this is what you found?” she gestured vaguely at Cereza in all her leather bodysuit-clad glory.

 

“Hey, dinner was fine,” he protested. “I showed up, she was there, she looks hot. I figured, the famous Harris luck with women is finally changing, and then…” he punched the palm of his hand. “WHAM! Demon attack.”

 

Bayonetta cleared her throat. “Technically, they’re Angels. But given the sort of things that you lot get up to, I can see where you wouldn’t see much of a difference.”

 

Buffy shook her head, not quite believing the Umbra Witch’s assertion. “These… angels, attack the restaurant and you two shoot the place up.”

 

“Hey, she did most of the shooting. I just helped out with crowd control and stuff.”

 

“Now, now, Cheshire, no need to be bashful.” Cereza chided, sidling up to him. He had a distinct deer-in-headlights look on his face as she plopped down in his lap, letting a gloved finger dangle off his lower lip. “You made for a wonderful distraction. Killing those freaks is a breeze, given how much they seem to love chasing after you.”

 

“What’s with the whole Cheshire thing?” Buffy asked.

 

“Pet name,” Xander said shortly.

 

“Isn’t it a little cutesy?”

 

“A cutesy nickname from her is the least painful thing I’ve had to deal with,” he observed.

 

“Now, now, Cheshire,” the Umbra Witch murmured, licking her lips speculatively. “I’ve got much more interesting things in mind for that clever little tongue of yours, and I’m going to enjoy making you do all of them.”

 

Willow cleared her throat meaningfully.

 

“…just as soon as Willow and I have finished our little chat,” Bayonetta amended quickly, getting up from her favorite new seat.

 

The Umbra Witch had already learned the hard way that keeping things polite with the Wicca was best for all of them. The fight in question was an astral tug-of-war match over Xander’s attention, and Cereza had only lost after Willow used her so-called ‘Resolve Face’ and a muted flare of magical power that intimidated him into paying attention to her rather than his new paramour.

 

Bayonetta had rarely encountered such a strong practitioner, and there was every indication that the redhead’s wellspring of power still remained largely untapped. A frightening concept, especially when one took her many known feats into consideration.

 

Buffy looked at Xander archly, “You just had to have sex on the first date, didn’t you?” she asked him dryly.

 

Xander looked at her, “Hello pot calling kettle...pot calling kettle; are you receiving Major Buffster?” he replied.

 

Buffy snorted but conceded the point.

 

The one-time King of Cretins simply gestured at the Umbra Witch continuing to haggle out the details of their… shared custody of him. “Besides, The chances of me meeting someone who looks that hot on a blind date are bad enough. When you throw in the detail of her wanting a little sexy alone time too? That’s like… astronomical.”

 

“…and you had no idea what she was into?” Buffy rolled her eyes at his protests. “Even after seeing how she fights, the attacks she uses, and you still didn’t get a clue?”

 

“He’s a big boy,” the Umbra Witch called over to her, leering at them. “He can handle it.”

 

Buffy snickered in spite of herself. “She’s like Anya in tight black leather, big hair, and glasses.”

 

“So we’re agreed?” Willow asked suddenly.

 

Bayonetta nodded, smiling widely.

 

Cereza and Willow stood up and shook hands, sealing the deal.

 

Buffy snorted at the way Xander flinched. “You know, most guys wouldn’t be complaining so much about getting some action, Xander. She seems really into you.”

 

“Most guys don’t have to worry about being pimped out by their friends.” Xander grumbled.

 

“Pimped out?” Buffy sounded hurt. “This was your idea. You’re the one who said that we needed to make friends.”

 

He managed to say, “This is making friends?” just as Bayonetta nestled herself in his lap and started nibbling at his earlobe and running a gloved hand up and down his chest.

 

“Tell me this isn’t more fun than that manservant thing that you were doing for Dracula.” Buffy tried to point out the silver lining of her best male friend’s situation.

 

“You mean, when I was his spider-eating man-bitch for a whole year?” he snapped back snidely.

 

Bayonetta pulled away from his ear when she heard this. “Cheshire…” she purred. “You’ve had house training? Naughty, naughty boy… you didn’t mention this last night.”

 

“We still have his butler outfit, if you want it,” Willow mentioned casually, enjoying his pain.

 

The Umbra Witch grinned, a predatory leer that only underlined her lust. “Even better. In fact… if we’re done here, I really should get my boy home and start showing him how grateful I am.”

 

“Willow, you’re not helping.” Xander said flatly, squealing girlishly as a gloved hand made its way down into his pants.

 

The redheaded Wicca just gazed at her old friend, amused. “Xander, THIS is why YOU of all people should not look for dates over the Internet


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all started with an Internet dating profile. ..

First Impressions Matter

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Author: B.H. Ramsay

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I claim nothing, which is what YOU’LL get if you sue me; nothing. Consider yourselves disclaimed.

Rating: Mature

Dedication: Thanks ever and always to Reikson and Drakependragon

Summary: When Cereza met Xander

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Jeanne smelt the musty odor when the door opened.

Neither the short and stocky man, nor the pungent cigar that he was chewing on, seemed the immediate source.

“I want Bayonetta,” Jeanne announced.

“Nothin’ doin’,” the stocky man growled, blowing a defiant cloud of smoke at her. “You Umbra bitches only tried to kill her a bunch of times.”

“We Umbra Witches…” Jeanne shot back, “…try to kill each other more times than you could possibly imagine.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.” The little man… Enzo, that’s what Cereza had called him, snorted.

“Competition is our way, bloody… violent competition. We push ourselves to be stronger so that our order becomes stronger.”

Jeanne poked an aggressive finger into Enzo’s chest.

“That, little man, is why our order still exists, despite the plots of the Lumen Sages or the witch hunters that your own people unleashed upon us. Our order survived; we survived and became stronger.”

Enzo snorted, “Lady, I hear that I-am-special-hear-me-roar crap, and my dick shrivels. It’s one reason why I like hanging out with HER; she don’t bend my ears with bullshit justification.”

Jeanne spat out an annoyed grunt. “Fine; we Umbra Witches are the closest thing to family that some of us will ever know. In her case, we’re the only family she’s ever known. Now where is my sister? Please.”

Enzo paused for a while, and then jerked a thumb up the staircase behind him, which had only one door on its second floor.

“She’s been squattin’ in there for days ever since the kid got jumped.”

“All this over that boy, Luka?” Jeanne snorted. “The sex had to be good to justify all this fuss.”

“I’d avoid cracks like that if I was you.” Enzo shrugged, fiddling with his paperwork. “She’s been little miss bitchy-pants for a while now.”

Jeanne pushed past him, striding up the staircase and opening the large door.

A fireplace roared at the far end of the room. The flames burned hot, hotter than inferno’s tormenting environment. Cereza was staring blankly at the magically-enhanced flames, watching as all her pictures of herself and Luka were quickly consumed.

“Luna’s light, Cereza,” Jeanne sighed. “You seem less like a powerful Umbra Witch and more like a heart-sick teenage girl.”

Bayonetta frowned. “What would you know, you soulless bitch?” she sneered. “You probably never loved anyone or anything besides yourself in six centuries.”

“Well, you can still be a catty bitch; at least, that’s something.” Jeanne just rolled her eyes.

Bayonetta snorted, and went back to tossing all those pictures (how many had they taken?!?) into the flames.

Jeanne watched her for a while. Finally, she asked, “How did you think this was going to end? Did you really think that you could defy one of the oldest and most sacred of our traditions?”

“I wasn’t teaching the boy magic or telling him our secrets.”

“He’s a journalist who was obsessed with you.” Jeanne spat.

“He thought I’d murdered his father to hide the secrets of the Umbra Order.”

“If that man had minded his own business, maybe he’d still be alive.” Jeanne snorted. “What did they do anyway?”

“They must’ve waited until I was distracted, luring me away, and then snatched him up.”

“What then?”

“Every conceivable indignity a motivated witch can visit upon a mortal and a few I think they dreamed up just because… hey, how often do you get chance to play with the great Cereza's boytoy and get away with it?”

“You suspect someone?”

“The Order, one of The Elders perhaps; who else could attack my home? Who but another Umbra would strike when I was unprepared? Who else would take such great pains not to physically hurt him?”

“You were warned that there would be consequences for taking a male and a reporter into your home and confidence.”

“There was a fire in him, Jeanne. Defiant, stubborn… by the time they’d finished with him, he… he wasn’t the same. They’d broken him, broken so that he’d never be whole again.”

“Not dead? Honestly, girl, the way you were talking...”

“They broke his mind and his spirit, Jeanne,” Bayonetta snarled. “The Luka I knew would spy on me in the bath, act like a complete lecher, and hit on anything with a pulse. He was fun and funny and interesting. After they’d hollowed him out, he’d have agreed with me if I said the grass was blue and the sky was green.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“If I want something that comes when I call and does what I say, I can get a pet dog.”

“Dogs can be trained to be loyal,” Jeanne shot back. “If i don’t feed a dog, it’ll stay loyal. If I hit a dog, it stays loyal. A dog understands that a little discipline is for its own good. Show me a mortal that intelligent.”

“…and the glimpse into your dating lifestyle that comment provides me is a scary one.” Cereza commented dryly.

“We’re powerful people, Cereza. Not many people are going to understand what that means or be able to deal with it if they could understand.” Jeanne sniffed.

Bayonetta saw something in Jeanne’s eyes that had her wondering, and not for the first time either, just what role her fellow Umbran witch might have played in that attack on Luka.

Cereza’s relationship with Jeanne was far from harmonious. While they had been friends and allies over the course of Bayonetta’s six-century lifespan, they had competed with and contested against each other just as much.

The modern world had invented a word that described their relationship perfectly; frenemy

Bayonetta found herself liking that word.Yes… Jeanne was her frenemy.

 “By the way, where is the little prince? He’s easy enough on the eyes; if you don’t want him anymore, I’m sure I can find something to do with him.”

“I sent him away.” Cereza said with a sigh, she turned back to the fire. “I wiped his memory so he doesn’t remember anything beyond our first meeting.”

“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Jeanne smirked. “Rude, too. You finally have a housebroken man to play with, and you ditch him.”

Bayonetta was certain now. Jeanne had been aware of the attack on Luka, maybe even instigated it.

“I’m sure you’ll find something else to amuse yourself with,” she shot back coldly.

Bayonetta definitely suspected her, but suspicions meant nothing to the High Council. It’s what you could actually prove that mattered.

“Speaking of; someone in Intel has it out for me. They’ve dumped a recon job on me, and I was hoping that you could take care of it for me, that is if you are done crying like a little girl.”

“What’s the job?”

“You remember the Sunnydale Hellmouth?”

“I remember that it was destroyed; sank the entire town into a pit. There’s a rather large lake there now.”

“One of the people involved recently posted an online dating profile, and get this; he used Enochian runes to make the profile only noticeable to people like us.”

“So he’s a witch hunter or an inquisitor?”

“Whatever he is, the old hags are worried.” Jeanne sniffed.

“You know, he could just be trying to get laid.”

“With a dating profile using Enochian in the border of his photo page?” Jeanne snorted. “Just make sure some stupid young witch doesn't fall into his clutches.”

Bayonetta looked at the boy he seemed pretty enough. The eyepatch was a nice touch. Still he was a young man, and young men were pathetically predictable.

How will you trap him?"

He's a boy looking for love on the Internet," Bayonetta replied, "I'll need some pictures taken."

8

9

8

"You did what!?!"

Bonnie, one of Willow’s research monkeys flinched.

 Xander tried to remember that as powerful a technopagan as Bonnie might be she was still basically a kid.

"Sorry, " he said at a slightly lower volume, "explain to me again what you did."

"We're trying to weave Enochian code into the technomancy it enhances the spell work without frying the tech running it. "

"...and why a dating profile?" Xander asked, "besides the whole gross violation of my privacy thing."

We needed to test our theory, something like IPartner is perfect.."

"And you coded this thing so only Witches and demons can read it? "

Bonnie nodded, "it seemed the perfect way to control traffic to the page, that’s until today."

She gestured at the monitor, Xander saw a woman. She wore skintight leather encasing an impressive and athletic figure Xander would have said glasses and a beehive hairdo wasn't the most intriguing of combinations but damn if the woman wasn't pulling the look off.

Her flirtatious pose in her pictures had her beckoning at the camera while flowery writing proclaimed her as "Mistress Bayonetta--just what you're looking for."

"Links to her page popped up anywhere you've been known to web surf in the last year..., Tin can, Youtube, Demons-Demons-demons," Bonnie paused obviously wanting to be delicate, "some other sites"

Xander caught the tone of her voice, "What I do during my off hours is between me and my soon-to-be-erased browser history." He snapped.

There were several pictures of Bayonetta posed coquettishly, seemingly randomly. One shot, featured her in a typical fetishized cheerleader outfit-- a Sunnydale High cheer squad outfit. Another had her posed as a librarian, several books were piled up beside her. It took a keen eye to spot that each had the same theme, vampires, the supernatural and the occult.

"I give her this much, she's done her homework." Xander snorted dryly.

"She's calling us out." Bonnie muttered.

Xander shook his head, "She's calling me out." He turned to Bonnie, "What do we have on this chick?"

"Her picture features the symbol of the Umbran Witch Order." Bonnie pointed to the prominently displayed chest piece adorning her leather catsuit.

"Subtle...really, really subtle." Xander muttered.

Bonnie pulled up another screen, "They were a powerful clan of witches until they were hunted to near total extinction five hundred years ago."

"She seems not so extinct." Xander remarked looking at the pictures of the witch.

"That might be because they're one of the first magical sects to embrace the use of martial combat including modern weaponry."

"How bad are we talking here?" Xander braced himself.

Bonnie pulled up the last photo showing Bayonetta sitting regally in a chair. Xander gaped. She had no less than four guns including two strapped to her boots. Her seated pose was casual but Xander quickly noticed; three of the weapons were almost but not quite pointed at the camera.

While the intent of her message couldn’t be clearer, more flowery writing slammed the point home. "Don't disappoint me." It read.

"Should we put together a strike team sir?"

"-against a member of an order of Witches that has survived every attempt to destroy them for five hundred years?"

She obviously wants a meeting."

With me," Xander insisted, "if I show up with Slayers or God forbid Willow in tow, she's going to go DEFCON one and I'd rather not find out out what being hunted for five centuries does for your combat skill set."

Xander reached for a phone, dialing a number that was included in her profile.

 It rang twice.

"Hello Xander did you enjoy the pictures?" A husky voice on the other end of the line asked.

"My compliments to your tailor, nobody's even seen a Sunnydale High cheer uniform in forever."

"I wanted your attention, and your...interests are public record."

"I'm curious, how come you aren't being swamped by phone calls, those pics are pretty hot.

"Thank you," Bayonetta replied, "the spell you used to make your page visible only to our kind can be focused on a single person."

"So I'm the only one that can see the number."

Correct," Bayonetta replied, So hunter, how are we doing this?"

Doing what?

"Given your...propensities, I assume you want a showdown under cover of night? Will I be getting a small squad of Slayers or will it just be Miss Summers and Rosenberg who are joining us."

"None of the above," Xander replied, "I was thinking dinner at Angelo's. It's a nice restaurant in town."

There was silence from the other end of the line then, " The witch finally asked, "Are you asking ME out on a date?" The witch asked, "if this is some kind of trick..."

"There could be date type activities" Xander replied.

"Why Angelo?" Bayonetta asked suspiciously.

"The food's decent, you don't need reservations and the building sits on a ley line nexus point so if stuff goes pear shaped you'll have the advantage."

"You know what I am and what I'm capable of and you're not only not intimidated, you're going to give me a decided advantage?"

"You said you did your homework, you can't be THAT surprised. " Xander replied, "How's eight o'clock?"

"Works for me. You've got my attention Mister Harris, don't be boring."

"I don't do Boring. What do I call you?

"Bayonetta will do for now, if you're interesting I may have other titles I'll allow you to use."

Xander snorted, "if I end up in a Gimp costume in your basement a week from now, I'll be very upset."

"How quaint." Bayonetta laughed.

"Hey Pulp Fiction is still totally relevant."

"That’s not what I mean," the witch explained, " What's quaint is the idea it'll take ME a week to get YOU into a Gimp outfit."

She hung up .

“What happened? " Bonnie asked.

“You know those jokes you and the girls like to tell about my dating habits that you think I don't know about?"

"I never heard anything about that." Bonnie lied.

Xander snorted, "I think it may have just happened again."

 

 


	3. Working Vacation 1

Working Vacation

8

9

8

Xander Harris threw a few last socks and underwear into an overnight bag.

“That’s a lot of underwear for just a weekend away.” Faith Lehane observed dryly, from where she was leaning against a nearby wall.

“Well…” Xander started, glancing into the bag thoughtfully. “Cereza mentioned a long weekend, and asked if I liked trains. I’m assuming that I’ll end up somewhere like Bulgaria by this time Monday.”

“Cereza?”

“Her real name, or at least one of them, anyway.”

“What else does she want you to call her, X?” Faith chuckled lasciviously. Bayonetta might be screwing Xander at the moment, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t interested in stories about their favorite boytoy.

“Cereza, Bayonetta, Miss, Mistress…” he trailed off briefly before adding, “She really likes it when I call her that last one, at least when we’re alone.” He noted the mocking smirk on Faith’s face and rolled his eye. “Hey, you know what? Never mind.”

“What’s with this chick?”

“She’s a witch, she’s just shy of six hundred years old, likes guns, has apparently lived a long time, and likes my company.”

“Lots of girls like your company, boytoy,” she scoffed good-naturedly. “I heard about Glasgow.”

Xander grimaced. “Satsu’s never faced a banshee that strong, she was just a little freaked out.”

“…and the giant monsters that come out of her hair?”

Xander frowned. Those ‘monsters’ were Bayonetta’s combat thralls; demons tamed by the powerful witch. Normally incorporeal and transdimensional entities, they took physical shape at her whim; manifesting out of her hair, her clothing, and even thin air when the mood struck her.

Still, he had to breathe a sigh of relief. She also possessed the power to conjure infernal contraptions that resembled medieval torture devices. Xander had seen the sadistic delight that the Umbra Witch took in dispatching her enemies with all the deadly toys in her arsenal.

Thankfully, she hadn’t seen fit to unleash her full power during the battle. The Slayers were powerful warriors, but they were also terrible gossips.

His friends and allies already had too much material to analyze and debate about his relationship with Bayonetta.

So he tried to feign indifference. “She likes showing off,” he shrugged.

Faith had been able to read guys like Xander long before the mystical enhancing properties of the Slayer made reading body languages about as complicated as reading a Dick and Jane book. The South Boston native knew when a man was being evasive. From a straight-up guy like Xander, that was a red flag.

“Xander…” Faith said softly, which instantly got his attention. “I like property damage as much as the next girl, but this chick’s on a whole other level.”

He sighed. Faith had definitely seen the unedited mission reports.

Bayonetta’s tastes in mayhem were remarkable enough, but one only had to notice the lusty and bloodthirsty glee on her face, as she summoned some torture device from the ether to unleash on some hapless foe, to realize that she enjoyed her work a little too much.

Still, Xander was a practical salt about such things. Some might even say pragmatic.

“Baddies got busted, and everyone on Satsu’s team came back in one piece. Everybody wins.”

“Except you have to pay for the save by spending the weekend as her…” Faith struggled for the right phrasing.

“Traveling companion?” Xander offered.

“…manservant-slash-sex slave?” Faith replied.

Xander snorted. Faith’s reputation as the bawdiest and most delightfully-blunt member of the Scooby Gang had taken a nosedive as Cereza’s tastes had made the Slayer-Watcher grapevine.

The Umbra Witch took great delight in his company and had no problems expressing that pleasure publicly and in some wild and extreme ways. Even Giles was a little worried.

“Faith, I’m okay, I swear. I mean, sure, Cereza’s not your typical flowers-and-candy girl, but it’s all good.”

“Promise?” she asked faintly, and that got him in the heart. Faith was so closed off behind her tactless bawdiness (an appealing combination of both Cordelia and Anya that only Cereza could surpass) that not even Wood, her longest-running relationship, had really gotten close to her. Not in the way that Angel and Xander himself, to a lesser extent, had ever managed.

“Hand to God, Faith,” he sighed. “I’m not some weird kind of sex slave, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay,” Faith grumbled.

“Good, now help me find my bondage mask and arm binders.”

Faith gaped at him for a long couple of seconds before she saw the insolent twinkle in his eye.

“Just for that, you can carry your own damn bag,” she snapped, storming out of his room. He just chuckled. So worth it to get one over on her like that…

It was a busy day at the Scottish castle the New Watcher’s Council called home.

Teams of Slayers were hurrying to assignments in places as far off as Japan and as close as… well, Glasgow, where one of the action teams had stumbled upon a creature they’d little experience in fighting.

Thankfully, Bayonetta had been both available and in the mood to respond to the team’s calls for help, extracting the promise of Xander’s company in exchange for her assistance.

It was this scene of barely-controlled chaos that Xander and Faith strolled through, down to the castle’s spacious entrance hall.

A small group of Slayers were loitering in the area, trying to pretend that they weren’t all there to catch a glimpse of the infamous gun-toting witch.

Xander shook his head, sighing wearily. Ever since he’d first met Bayonetta, he’d tried to keep their relationship on the down-low, at least beyond his core group of allies and friends.

But after that incident over in Dundee, word was definitely out.

A loud honking announced Bayonetta’s arrival, and the front door was thrown open to people streaming out onto the lawn to see a sleek, dark Ferrari 599 GTO carve its way up the long and meandering driveway.

To simply call the car black was to do a grave disservice to the absolute absence of color. Light seemed to be consumed by the car’s gleaming surface, while its curves and lines suggested something more feral and animalistic than a simple high performance vehicle.

…and yet, as ferocious as the car looked, it seemed the perfect cage suited to contain its mistress, who’d just climbed from the car and promptly caught everyone’s attention.

Faith just gaped. “Damn… I hope I look that good when I’m six-hundred years old.”

Xander had been hoping that Bayonetta might avoid her usual close-fitted battle dress, her “work clothes” as he’d come to call them.

Indeed, she’d avoided her catsuit in favor of a more-conventional ensemble… well, conventional for Bayonetta, anyways.

She was dressed up like a schoolteacher, an effect enhanced by her ever-present horn rimmed glasses and… huh, she’d cut her hair.

But if she was a school teacher, then her classroom had to be somewhere in Hell.

Her leather skirt sported a slit up both sides that competed with its already-daring hemline to catch the eye. The silk blouse and leather vest somehow managed to both conceal AND display her impressive cleavage. Of course, this being Bayonetta, the vest looked less like a fashion accessory and more like a fetishized corset.

The trunk of the car opened at a snap of her fingers. “Come along, Cheshire,” she called in her posh accent. “We have a train to catch, and we’re burning daylight, as you Americans like to say.”

“Cheshire?” Faith whispered.

“Pet name, please don’t ask.” Xander muttered under his breath.

“You don’t know, or you don’t want ME to know?”

Xander grimaced and looked away.

Huge red flag.

Instead, he met Cereza at her car with a peck on the cheek before tossing his bag in the trunk, asking, “You gonna let me drive?” He asked.

Bayonetta laughed, the sound both melodically high and clear. “Oh, Cheshire, you always say the most delightful things,” she chuckled, gesturing at the shotgun seat.

“I’m not THAT bad,” he rolled his eye.

“This car requires precision, finesse, and control,” she said airily. “Anything less, and it’s too much car to handle.”

Xander snorted in spite of himself as he examined its dashboard. “It’s a car; four wheels and a seat. Granted, it’s a thing of beauty, but anything else is just a salesman blowing smoke up your incredibly-awesome ass. “

“Aren’t you the little charmer?” she observed, leering at him. “Mama wants some sugar.”

So Xander leaned over and kissed her, trying to ignore the loud howls of encouragement from the watching Slayers.

They were starting to make out with some intensity when Bayonetta’s fist tangled in his hair holding his head in place while her foot slammed on the gas and the car leapt forward.

He tried to scream in fear, but the witch’s tongue slithered aggressively into his mouth, muffling his cries and turning them into grunts of panic.

She accelerated her car down the driveway’s winding path amidst the screaming tires, entirely unconcerned as they all but flew toward the closed front gates.

The gate began a slow motion march to the sides, uncaring of the vehicle rocketing towards them.

Xander made another unmanly sound around Bayonetta’s wild and passionate tongue as the car squeezed through the gate with maybe a half inch of space on either side.

She upshifted, spinning the car onto the road before leaning back in the driver’s seat.

“…and that’s just your own driveway, which you should feel totally comfortable with.” Bayonetta explained, chuckling at the poleaxed look on her boytoy’s face.

He pounded on his chest, trying to restart his heart. “Okay… okay, I get the point,” he wheezed, wondering if she hadn’t scared ten years off his life. “So what’s with the train trip?”

“What, a girl can’t drag her favorite boytoy on a romantic getaway?” Cereza asked.

“If you were just any girl, sure. But you’re not, so what’s the deal?”

“The Umbra Order,” she grunted darkly. “A work request… with pay, no less.”

“The Council of Umbra Witches are hiring you? Should I be concerned?” Xander shrugged.

“Always.” Cereza replied.

“These would be the same Sisterhood of Umbra Witches who occasionally try and KILL you?”

“For shame, Cheshire,” she chided him playfully. “Would you really let a little thing like attempted homicide stand in the way of a potentially good business deal?”

“No, but I’d sure as shooting make ’em pay double.”

She snorted. “Great minds think alike,” she replied. “I quoted the most ridiculous price I could think of at the moment, and those stuffy bitches paid up front.”

“…which should set off all kinds of alarms. This job’s way more dangerous than they’re letting on.”

“I doubt it’s anything we can’t handle,” she shrugged.

"And again She's tempting Murphy." Xander sighed.

The car’s speed increased and Xander felt velocity shoving him back into the GTO’s plush and comfortable seat.

"A little danger makes things more interesting." Cereza replied.

He glanced over and saw a familiar predatory gleam in the Umbra Witch’s eyes.

“Aren’t we going a little fast?”

“I want to get to the station sooner rather than later,” she growled. “I’ve booked us a private room and I want you all to myself.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he marveled.

“…and you’ll be getting the full advantage of it. First chance we get, you’ll finish what you started,” she declared, a lusty glint in her eyes.

“Hey, that make-out session was your idea,” he chided her lightly, amused at the familiar look she shot his way.

Xander hadn’t been lying to Faith about the nature of his relationship. But Bayonetta had been pretty clear about who was in the driver’s seat in their somewhat-unconventional coupling, both literally and metaphorically.

Not that it was all bad; a recent weekend in which they’d stayed in bed as much as possible was actually a pretty fond memory.

So he decided against arguing.

But as he eyed her nervously, she reached out a caressing hand. Just as she managed the impressive feat of upshifting and executing a handbrake turn, all while running her fingers through Xander’s hair as the GTO’s speed ramping upwards to mirror her increasing delight.

He resisted her gentle pressure on his head.

“Nervous, sweetling?” she chuckled.

“Last thing I want to explain to some ambulance guy is what I was doing if you lose control of the car.”

“…or worse, Summers and Rosenberg,” she chuckled.

“That goes without saying. Seriously, please don’t say anything. I’m begging you.”

Her fingers suddenly clenched in his hair and she tugged ever-so-gently, smiling as he winced at the pain. “Oh, but you can beg so much better than that, Cheshire,” she cooed, her lips pulling into a leer. “I can certainly testify to such knowledge.”

He grimaced, and she chuckled, letting him go. “All right, Xander. If you make it worth my while, I’ll keep some of your less… well-known skills and talents a secret just between us.”

“You did get us a private cabin aboard the train, right?” he pleaded.

She smiled triumphantly. She didn’t mind waiting, and a little defiance on his part only served to whet her appetite. After all, the name of the game wasn’t breaking down but rather breaking in.

“Ahh, Xander, this weekend will be fun times. In fact, I might never let you go.”

He smiled weakly, fairly certain that Cereza was kidding.

But something in her eyes made him think that assuming anything with Bayonetta was a fool’s gambit.

8

9

8


	4. Working Vacation 2

9

8

The train station was a frenzied chaotic mass of bodies moving to and fro. Bayonetta’s GTO slid into two adjacent handicapped parking slots.

“You sure it’s okay to leave your car here?” a slightly disheveled Xander asked, his hair a tousled mess.

“Relax, Cheshire, no one will notice it’s even here.”

Bayonetta bit into her thumb until scarlet pebbles of blood appeared, then using her bloodied thumb to inscribe an arcane symbol onto the car’s chassis.

The car seemed to almost… sigh, and Xander paused, wondering what was going to happen.

What happened next was odd. The car didn’t so much vanish as it seemed to swim in his vision. The car was there, physically, in the corner of his eye, but when he tried looking directly at it, his eyes seemed determined to not focus on it.

“What the Hell?” he remarked. “It’s there, I… I know it’s there, but it’s like it isn’t.”

“Invisibility is so gauche,” Cereza sniffed. “Social invisibility is much more subtle. I believe your friend Andrew would call it a… perception filter, or some such.”

The car’s trunk opened with a snap of her fingers, and Xander retrieved his bag, noting that Cereza herself seemed to have packed no luggage of any kind.

“Traveling light?” he pointed.

“For all you know, this trip is clothing-optional,” she leered at him.

Xander grimaced. “Suddenly, the reality of running around with no clothes on so doesn’t match up with the fantasy I built in my head.”

“…and THAT, sweetling, is why I’ll never be bored with you,” she noted fondly.

“Aren’t we gonna need backup?”

“We might be seeing an old friend of mine,” she replied, shrugging. “But you’re all the support I’ll really need on this trip. “

She produced a slim silver case slipping it into Xander’s pants pocket.

“Be a dear and hold on to that for me?” Cereza caressed Xander’s face.

Xander shrugged, “You want me to hold on to your smokes?” He asked

“Not exactly, but there’s no one I trust more,” she shrugged. “Now let’s get aboard. We’ve got first-class accommodation, which includes meal service.”

“Looking to get your food on?”

She just chuckled, the hungry look in her eyes not exactly interested in food at all. “We’ll start with food and see where the evening takes us.”

8

9

8

Bertie Rodgers darted through the crowds of the train station. At one point, he brushed by a couple; the brunette, tall and intimidating, looked like something straight out of his wet dreams while her companion was a wiry young man, his right eye concealed behind an eyepatch.

But he kept moving, weaving in and around the crowds.

“Slow down,” he heard the voice in his head. “If you hurry, they’ll mark you. Just relax, and let the crowd carry you to where you want to be.”

Bertie slowed, trying to keep with the pace of the crowd.

“Better,” the voice commented. “You’re coming up on a ticket booth.”

“I’m broke,” he shot back. “If you’d let me PUSH someone, I’d have all the cash we need.”

“Stop!” The command was loud, louder than when it usually spoke.

“Pick up the phone,” the voice commanded. “Pretend to be making a call. Then, I want you to look to the sides. Tell me what you see.”

Bertie looked around cautiously, and then he saw them. Three men, moving through the crowds. Everything about them screamed hunter, especially the leader in the trench coat.

“The albino in the coat is Deckland. He’s a PUSHER like you, but what he’s really good at is BENDING. He’s one of the best BENDERS out there. Now look at the rest.”

“Some kid who barely looks old enough to shave.”

“That’s Peter, a LEECH.”

Bertie shivered. “Power-detection and siphoning.”

“Peter will smell it if you so much as make someone sneeze funny. Now focus on the last one.”

“The bald guy in the Hawaiian shirt and sports coat?

“Victor; he’s a SMOKER.”

“Screens people and places,” Bertie muttered. “…and he can make people forget.”

“Or remake what they remember,” his guide reminded him. “His favorite trick is to make you remember stuff so horrible that they won’t need to kill you because you’ll kill yourself.”

Bertie shuddered. He’d heard about all the depraved stuff the erasers could do. “If you won’t let me PUSH my way on to the train, then how are we going to make this happen?”

“I didn’t say you can’t PUSH anyone, I just meant that you have to be smart about it.”

Bertie looked around cautiously. “So what am I looking for?”

“Not what, who,” the voice corrected. “You’re looking for that couple you passed earlier.”

“The man and woman?” Bertie looked around, seeing them boarding a train.

“He’s a mundane, but she reeks of magic. Cast near them, and the hunters can’t help but notice.”

“But the hunters, they’ll kill them.”

“Better them than you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you strong enough to face them yourself?” The voice was sneering.

“No.”

“Then man up and PUSH the waiter. That should get their attention.”

Bertie glided up to the couple. The man… boy, really, was talking the lady’s ear off about some teacher that he’d been hot for, back in high school.

Instead of ignoring him or hitting him with that withering glare of an unimpressed woman, the lady seemed fascinated. If that fond smile on her face was any indication.

The kid motioned to a waiter and Bertie hit the man with a hard PUSH.

The woman looked up, almost sniffing the air.

Bertie retreated as the waiter approached the table.

8

9

8

Xander smiled at the waiter. “The lady needs her glass topped up.”

“Indeed, I see that table over there has a bottle of Chateau Le Perrin. Ah, a ’42. How fortunate.”

“I guess she’ll have what they’re having.”

“At once, sir.”

The waiter approached the other table and grabbed the bottle of wine.

A scuffle broke out as the diners protested, with one of them grabbing at the waiter, who responded by smashing the man in the face.

“What the hell?” Xander choked.

“Your ’42, sir,” the waiter mumbled, apparently oblivious to the blood trickling from the cut on his lip. Someone at the other table had gotten in a punch during the brief skirmish.

“Garçon?” Bayonetta asked politely. “Why did you do that?”

The waiter ignored her, every fiber of his being attending on Xander’s every word.

“Dude, my friend asked you a question.”

“More authoritative,” she snapped suddenly.

“Huh?”

“He’s being compelled and it appears that you’re the focus. He’ll do what you tell him to, but you have to be firm.”

Xander gaped before turning back. “My friend asked you a ques-”

“No, you’re still asking.” Cereza groaned. “Don’t ask him for what you want, demand it.”

He grimaced. “It feels weird.”

Cereza fixed an intense gaze on him. “When you’re training your Slayers, do you beg them to pay attention or do you demand it?”

“That’s different. People’s lives are at stake if they screw up in the field.”

“Well, his life’s at stake right now,” she shot back.

Xander nodded before turning back to the waiter.

“Tell me who compelled you.” Xander said coldly.

“I don’t know,” the waiter said dully.

“Are they still here?” Cereza asked.

The waiter ignored her.

“HEY!” Xander snapped. “When she asks you a question, you answer it. When she tells you to do something, you do it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter droned, turning to her mechanically. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“It’s alright,” Bayonetta replied, a little amused at this side of her boytoy. “Now, is the person who compelled you still in the room?”

“They left.”

“Did you see them?” Xander demanded.

The waiter shook his head. “They feel far away, sir. Can I go to them, sir?”

“You think you could find them?”

He shook his head again. “They feel so far away now.”

“Definitely concealing themselves, but why?” Cereza sighed.

“So what do we do with him?” Xander asked.

“What do you want to do with a compelled slave?” she winked at him.

He grimaced. By now, he knew when she was baiting him. “Could you go back to your post and wait for us?” the Scooby asked.

“Oh, Cheshire, you’ve still got a lot to learn.” Bayonetta chuckled before turning to the waiter.

“You’ve been almost useful so Xander’s allowing you to go back to your post as a reward.” Her voice was icy, commanding. If he was honest, that was hot. “Go to sleep, little man, and dream of when Xander might bother to call upon you again.”

The waiter’s smile seemed beatific as he dashed past diners who Xander noticed were curiously unconcerned about the confrontation.

“Not that I’m complaining, but is it just me, or is the crowd way less freaked out then they should be?”

“Someone or something is shading us from the sight of others.”

“Good someone or bad someone?”

“I expect we’re about to find out,” she gestured at the three men approaching their table.

Xander tensed, as their leader looked at him. “Kid, I could think your brains into tapioca pudding before you even knew what was happening.”

“Now, boys,” Bayonetta chided. “If you’re going to fight, at least try to make it interesting.”

She slid a bottle of salad dressing across the table. The implication was clear.

The albino grimaced. “All right, ducks, you and your bird are coming with us.”

“Xander, be a dear and let me have my case.”

He fumbled with the slim silver case from his pockets before sliding it across the table.

“You kept it nice and warm for me.” Bayonetta cooed as she snatched it up.

“Now that the bird has her cigs, can we leave already?”

“Ah, but that’s just it, ducks,” she shot back. “This isn’t a cigarette case.”

Xander gaped as Bayonetta’s arm disappeared inside the case, up to the shoulder. When the arm emerged again, the Umbra Witch was holding a decorated broadsword that looked to have a wicked sharp edge.

“Peter!” The albino snapped.

The boy darted forward, grabbing Cereza’s ankle, and Xander watched as tendrils of energy flowed out of her and forced her to drop to one knee.

“So much power…” Peter moaned. “I have to taste every drop.”

Xander’s foot reached up and crashed into Peter’s ribs. The boy stumbled back, Xander hoping that Bayonetta would pull herself free. Instead, she grabbed the reeling boy and pulled him in close.

“You really shouldn’t be so hands-on with someone you don’t know,” she murmured quietly, and suddenly he realized that she was pissed off.

Xander felt the air twist and shift as Bayonetta’s hair seethed and pulsed as if it was alive.

Alive and hungry.

“Especially when so much of the power you stole goes to keeping the darkness inside,” she snarled that last word as her hair lengthened. Writhing like snakes, her tresses suddenly ensnared the boy, trapping him.

“Aww, did the bad man wake my precious?” she cooed mockingly, as Peter’s screaming was muffled by bestial roaring. The other men backed away as the Umbra Witch watched them, a look of cruel delight and orgasmic joy on her face.

“Delicious, isn’t he, precious?” Bayonetta moaned, cooing at her monstrous pet. “Now eat up; mama wants you to clean your plate, and you can even lick the bowl clean.”

Peter’s screaming abruptly stopped though the disturbing sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bone. Much of her hair seemed to absorb the dark-red that stained it, before the animated tresses loosed its grip. Even Xander gaped at the bleached-bone skeleton that fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

Cereza made a show of rubbing her stomach contentedly. “What’s wrong, boys?” she jeered at them. “I thought you liked it when a girl swallowed.”

More hair swirled around her body, solidifying into her “working clothes” as she suddenly grabbed onto a pair of blue pistols and had two similar pistols materialize at her ankles. She’d upgraded, apparently. He wondered what she’d done with the Scarborough Fair…

“Victor, fry her brains,” the leader ordered, snapping out of his shock.

Victor stepped forward, his eyes glowing as he focused his power on the Umbra Witch.

“Ooh, someone wants to play mind games,” Bayonetta chuckled. “Far be it from me to keep from having fun…”

8

9

8

Victor and Bayonetta found themselves facing off on a featureless plane.

“Welcome to my mind, bitch.” Victor sneered. “In here, I’m God.”

Cereza looked at herself briefly before shrugging, unconcerned at the fact that she didn’t have Love is Blue in her hands or at her ankles. “Well, we both know that’s not true,” she jabbed, clutching herself. “I’d be naked if you were.”

“I could peel your mind open and suck out whatever I want, and you’re running your mouth off?” the ERASER snarled incredulously.

His shadow crept along the ground, inconspicuously reaching out to connect the distance between the two of them, and the ground beneath suddenly felt like quicksand.

She began sinking rapidly, quirking an eyebrow at her situation and then rolling her eyes. How hackneyed. “Honestly, Victor, I got dressed up and everything and the best you can manage are cheap parlor tricks?”

One of Victor’s eyebrows twitched as he advanced on her, real slow to ramp up her fear. “You got a big mouth, don’t you?” he sneered. “I can think of better things to do with it than hearing you run it off.”

Cereza just sniffed disdainfully. Xander could pull that act off a lot better than anything this loser was trying, even if she had to train him up a bit. “Honey, I know the other girls wanted to spare your feelings, but if you’re going to mind-fuck someone, then you’d be better off well-hung,” she jabbed at him.

“Shut up, bitch,” Victor snarled, letting his eyes fall shut as he felt moist warmth around his stiffened manhood.

Then the weight of an arm landed on his shoulder. Looking back, he gaped. Bayonetta was free of his mind trap, and looking at him as if she was amused.

“Not that I’m any kind of expert, but should you be putting that in there?” she pointed down, and he followed her gaze. Only to see the huge Rottweiler that snarled aggressively before its jaws snapped shut.

Victor screamed as he fell back, and the dog jumped on him and started savaging his body.

“Aww, how cute,” she purred, enjoying his agonized screaming. “All that talk of bitches, I thought you’d be into something like this.” Absently running her hands down her sides, she smiled thinly at the bloody mess at her feet. “You know, I think she likes you. Normally, she would’ve torn your belly open first.”

She turned on her heel, leaving the screeching Victor to the dubious mercy of his own mental demons. “You should be careful,” she chided him, calling back over her shoulder. “Feed her once and she’ll never leave you alone.”

8

9

8

Victor knelt on the floor, staring blankly into space.

Xander’s sense of compassion forced him to look away from the helpless man as bodily fluids darkened his pants, leaving them drenched.

“Two down, one to go.” Bayonetta hissed, advancing on Deckland. 


	5. Working Vacation 3

"Two down," Bayonetta hissed, advancing on Deckland. "one to go."

Deckland's survival instincts were blasting a three alarm warning at him as the relentless witch closed in on him, her katana held at the ready, it's blade gleaming with sinister intent.

Deckland pulled out a short blade brandishing it threateningly at Xander.

Far be it from the Scooby to make cruel jokes about endowment but it was hard to take the mercenary thug seriously when his weapon was so clearly dwarfed by the size of Bayonetta's.

"I'll cut him!" Deckland yelled.

"And?" Bayonetta asked.

"He's your friend aint he?"

"With benefits." Xander supplied.

"Really great benefits." Bayonetta agreed. A smile of feral glee cutting across her face.

Her beauty became a mask so cruel and grotesque even Xander found himself wanting to tear his eyes away and yet unable to.

"Understand Little Man," Bayonetta hissed, "I take pleasure in a lot of things...food, sex, ah but killing... killing is a big one. You might even say that it's my favorite."

"I can still do it you know," Deckland yelled, "hurt you... hurt him, fuck him up real nasty."

"So you're a bad man are you?" Bayonetta mocked, "So dangerous...Good, then there's nothing holding me back from taking my time and gutting you as painfully and inventive a fashion as possible."

Xander shuddered "I'd kinda like it if I avoided death." He sighed

He was getting used to Cereza's occasionally callous Indifference, and at least she spread it around when she was being a merciless bitch. Hell, it was even kind of a turn on If he was honest.

"Relax Cheshire, he's not like you at all. He's a coward he loves his life too much to throw it away even if it would bring him victory, which is why this battle is already over."

Deckland shuddered as she stalked him.

"Decisions decisions," Bayonetta hissed, "...If you stand and fight I'll play pincushion with your vitals. If you try to escape I'll kill you slow and if you try and hurt him, well then I'll kill you ugly and slow."

Deckland gritted his teeth, and snarled like a trapped beast.

Xander wanted to tell Cereza, cornered beasts were always more dangerous. Of course an Umbran Witch with her blood up was just as dangerous as any jungle cat and in Bayonetta's case, twice as lethal.

Bayonetta lashed out with her blade.

Xander barely saw the thing, it moved so quickly. It struck. ..something Xander couldn't see.

A barrier of some sort. A construct of Deckland's desperate will and whatever mysterious powers he shared with his dead friends.

Xander felt that power twist and distort the air around them both.

The strength needed to resist Cereza's powerful assault must have been immense, Harris watched as Deckland gasped, rivulets of blood appearing under his nose.

Bayonetta laughed, sniffing the air like a predator, her feral grin a frightening mirror of the look Xander had seen on sharks.

No, a shark's eyes were dead, lifeless, but Bayonetta's eyes were filled with life, malevolent, violent, hungry life.

"So strong-" the Umbra Witch sneered, "I hope you've been practicing your barriers boy, I want to enjoy the moment I peel them apart...I want to enjoy what I'm going to do with you."

The katana's blade swirled through the air and damn if it didn't seem to segment becoming a whip who's metal lash now cracked and snapped in the air.

Bayonetta's whip lashed again and again at Deckland's shield.

Xander heard something that sounded like shattering glass. The diners in the rest of the car began crying out in panic. Whatever magics were clouding the fighters from view no longer functioned and the diners were reacting as civilians in harm's way usually reacted.

Xander reacted instantly. "Move to the rear door." He yelled. Long years fighting on the Sunnydale Hellmouth had taught him how to motivate people who might otherwise end up as collateral damage.

The other diners barely protested, instead the crowd moved surprisingly quick leaving the dining car empty. As the last diner ran from the car, Xander slammed the door closed, latching it; there'd be no interruptions.

"Now that we're alone we can have some happy fun time. " Bayonetta said with a smirk. Her hand swirling the whip through the air faster and faster.

She brought the whip crashing down. The lash cutting a table in two even as Deckland's barriers fell with a crash Xander could hear.

No, not fell, a desperate gamble. Bayonetta pulled on the handle of her whip but it stayed stubbornly pinned to the floor.

Deckland darted forward, the blade in his hand slicing at Xander.

A lifetime ago in Sunnydale he'd have been easy prey. Intimidated by the blade if not the man holding it.

Xander caught Deckland's thrust while stepping to one side and cranking down on it hard.

Deckland gasped dropping his knife. In his fury, he focused on Xander.

Xander swiftly wrenched his captured hand, twisting until the thug yelled in pain. Xander slapped him across the face.

Deckland's pain and shock at being struck kept him from focusing his powers.

"Slayer combat 101," Xander thought, "magic users rarely practice casting while under physical attack."

Deckland's brow furrowed and Xander snapped his knee up betwixt Deckland's legs hitting him. Deckland moaned and Xander watched the air rush out of his body as he crumpled.

"I could do this all day jackass." Xander kneed the man again for emphasis. Deckland rushed Xander grabbing at him Xander swiveled his hips throwing the man over and slamming him to the ground.

Deckland kicked out and Xander took a glancing blow in the stomach but Deckland had a whole other reason for distracting The Watcher.

Deckland focused his power

Xander howled, searing pain flowing through his head like burning hot pins being jabbed into his brain.

One of the Slayers, a sufferer of chronic migraine headaches, had once described the attacks. Xander wondered if he could be forgiven for thinking this mind-numbing pain was a thousand times worse.

Deckland was readying to bargain for his life, but Bayonetta's iron hard grip trapped him. She threw him across a table, her whip transforming back into a deadly edged sword. The katana blade sank deep into his shoulder. Deckland screamed in agony.

"This is my version of just-the-tip." The witch hissed in Deckland's ear.

"I'll let him go, just let me live-"

Bayonetta responded by turning the blade in Deckland's shoulder. The man cried out.

"Do you feel that little man," Cereza whispered in the thug's ear, " that pain is nothing compared to what I can do to you inside of your own mind. You'll think Inferno's torments are a wet and wild water park in comparison."

Deckland saw the truth in her eyes.

"You're going to die, Little Man." Bayonetta growled, "your only choice is slow and torturous or quick and brutal."

He blinked and Xander fell to the floor his head free of pain.

"I...I can tell you-" Deckland pleaded.

"What?" Bayonetta snapped, "the name of your boss? Where they are? What you're being paid for? Your mind is even more an open wound then this-." She twisted the sword in his shoulder to make her point.

"Trust me Little Man, I've ripped it out of you already!" She snarled before she jerked the katana blade from Deckland's body who sighed in relief even as life faded from his face.

Bayonetta moved to Xander helping him.

Xander pulled himself to his feet, "I've had my head messed with before and I ain't never had a headache like the one I got now."

"And that's why you only let professionals into your brain." Bayonetta explained.

She sounded once again like the flirtatious dominatrix she normally projected, rather than the callous indifferent murderess she was plainly capable of being.

Bayonetta peered into his eyes red rimmed from his struggles.

"A good night's rest and deep meditation and you'll be fine." Bayonetta proclaimed, "lets go Sweetling,"

Xander let her lead him from the dining car, as they walked Xander cast a look back at the carnage they'd left behind.

"Are we just leaving two bodies in the middle of dessert?" Xander asked.

"Considering the best part of the service was our mind controlled waiter? I don't see why not."

Xander shrugged and let the matter be. Had he stayed though he'd have seen shadows creep across the table and chairs dark fingers reaching out and claiming Deckland's body and Victor's still catatonic form.

Bayonetta's infernal creatures would eat well this night.


	6. Two for Tea

Bayonetta watched as Xander's face grimaced as he flailed around in his sleep. They'd returned to the private coach where the Watcher had immediately fallen into a deep nightmare filled sleep.

Cereza wasn't one for sentiment, she'd spent almost all of Xander's lifetime with virtually no memory of her own past after all. But Xander had been manhandled while trying to help her out, she felt like she owed him something. If not out of friendship, then certainly the less pleasant consequences should his friends come to know how he'd been harmed.

If there was one thing upon which Bayonetta and the Slayers could agree it was that payback wasn't just a bitch; when someone you cared for had been hurt, it was a Goddess given right.

Xander had made it clear that keeping the peace was absolutely necessary, of course not even Xander knew just how important it was that things betwixt The Umbran Witches and The Watchers Council stay civil.

8

9

8

A few weeks ago. ..

It was a few weeks since Jeanne had fobbed that scouting job off on Bayonetta.

A few weeks of Bayonetta being unavailable for anything short of Earth shaking catastrophe.

Recently Cereza seemed preoccupied with the man-child Watcher and his Slayers.

First was a vampire army, Jeanne, like most Umbran Sisters, thought of them as little more than vermin. Hardly a fitting challenge for an Umbra Witch even one as weak as Cereza.

Then a bunch of demons breaking into a Deeper Well. A giant repository for Ancient Demon Gods slumbering and imprisoned beneath the Earth's surface.

Bayonetta had taken the highly unusual tactic of reporting that incident to the Umbran High Council.

They'd been very interested in that case.

Jeanne leaned in eager to hear more of Cereza's adventures among the Watchers even though her tales were laced with salacious details and gossip relating to the Watchers and Slayers, especially to one Watcher in particular.

"They're a tight group," Cereza was saying, "Summers is clearly in charge and she's easily stronger than the rest, may even be stronger than any Slayer before her."

Jeanne sniffed, "That's not saying anything, our order managed to embrace the use of conventional arms, martial arts... these Slayers still poke at things with pointed sticks."

"Our weapons and bodies are enhanced by the demons we bind ourselves to." Bayonetta reminded Jeanne.

"The First Slayer was created by binding a demon's power to a human girl's soul, " Jeanne replied, "they're in no better a place then we."

Cereza smiled, "That's where you're wrong. Summers died in battle against the Hell Goddess - Glorificus. They have death records, autopsy photos, an orgy of proof that she was gone."

"Your point being..." Jeanne prompted.

The Witch ...Rosenberg, brought her back; pulled her out of Heaven...Heaven old friend, not Paradisio or Inferno...Heaven. "

Jeanne gaped, "but...but Slayers are empowered by demonic energies why aren't their souls dragged down into the depths of Inferno like ours?"

"Therein lies my curiosity," Cereza replied.

"And the Witch...Rosenberg, what of her?"

"Powerful, even more so since she became a student with benefits of the Demon Saga Vasuki. "

"Our greatest elders haven't been able to bind that creature to our service, how did Rosenberg accomplish this?"

"According to her, she asked."

"Excuse me, she asked?"

"She asked nicely." Bayonetta smirked.

"Access to demon magics alliances with entities our order cannot even commune with and knowledge of hellmouths and the creatures drawn to them." Jeanne asked. "You know what this would mean don't you?"

"I know, "

"Then why waste your time and effort with the boy?"

"Because he's fun and he's funny" Cereza replied, "and he likes older women, or in my case, much, much older. "

Jeanne snorted in derision.

Bayonetta rolled her eyes, "Fine, drink your tea."

Jeanne sniffed and sipped at the delicious blend. "You have to let me know where to find this blend of tea it's it's. .."

Bayonetta smirked, "never tasted anything else like it?"

Jeanne grimaced, "what's going on Cereza? "

"Xander calls it Dracula Tea, he learned the recipe from The Carpathian,."

"The Carpathian Prince took a vampire hunter into his confidence?"

Bayonetta chuckled, "-And told him secrets he's never shared with anyone else."

"That's impossible," Jeanne snarled, "who is this...boy, what is he?"

"He's the most trusted. Rosenberg and Summers tell him things that they wouldn't share with anyone else and as long as I'm no danger to his friends he'll share those secrets with me."

"You know that the state of affairs won't last. With our eternal souls at stake the Elders are going to want the help of The Watchers...One way or another."

"Jeanne, I promise you that my way is the only way for everyone to get what they want."

Jeanne sighed and shook her head, "That's where you're wrong sister, that's where you're wrong."

8

9

8

Jeanne refused to elaborate, not that she really needed to.

Eternal Damnation was the ever present blade at the throat of every single Umbran. To be an Umbra Witch meant great power, extended life, resilience to pain and harm but you weren't immortal a lucky strike and it was over, and when it was over the the real pain began.

Your soul snatched away to become a plaything of the very demon that once empowered you. Then you became a slave for the rest of eternity. ..or worse food for the very hungry demonic entities you once commanded.

Somehow Willow and the Slayers had found a secret way around something Bayonetta and the rest of the Umbra Witch Order had always accepted as a basic unavoidable fact of life. It was only a matter of time before the Umbran High Council of Witches would come looking for that secret, it was a matter of survival.

Xander groaned in his sleep almost as if sensing Cereza's disturbed thoughts and the very serious stakes that were at play.

Xander and his friends had survived their many many battles by doing whatever it took to survive. The problem with that was the Umbra Witches had survived for centuries doing almost exactly the same thing.

In short, irresistible force meets immovable object. ..

"As the old song said," Bayonetta sighed , "something's gotta give."


	7. First Impressions Really Matter

_**AN** \--my profound apologies for making you all wait but certain details about the next game meant a hasty rewrite of this chapter-thanks ever and always to Drakependragon for helping me make this better_

8

9

8

"An Iron Maiden a real one?" Vi asked incredulously

Satsu nodded, "She conjures this thing out of thin air, kicks the demon inside, shuts it and then-"

Vi held up a hand, "Please, ... just reading about Xander's girlfriend is bad enough, ," the Slayer shuddered in disgust, " hearing about her makes me want to lose my lunch."

Satsu snickered "You were the one that asked." She reminded her fellow Slayer.

"And now I'm regretting that to the very core of my being." Vi grumbled.

Vi looked around a silent monument filled graveyard. "Why are we here?" She demanded

"There's been a spike in vamp deaths," Satsu replied, "evidence shows more sireing than is normal."

Vi shrugged, "So we're Slayers, we find and we slay, kind of built into the job description."

Satsu sighed, "Morgue checks come up empty. These new vampires are being spirited away BEFORE they rise.

Vi gaped, "Why take a vampire especially a newborn, they're practically wild dogs at that point."

"Maybe that's point," Satsu answered, "maybe whoever it is needs something ... someone expendable, vampires make for good cannon fodder."

The two Slayers moved through the empty dark cemetery. Their weapons at the ready. Statues, exquisitely carved out of stone to resemble heavenly angels, some holding cutting or stabbing weapons, lined the dark pathways.

"What are we looking for?" Vi wondered nervously clutching a short bowie knife; it's blade gleaming with the sheen of its silver overlay.

"Three deaths within a week," Satsu answered, "all showing signs of having been sired, all buried in this graveyard."

"You sure about that are you?" Vi snorted.

Satsu stopped and fumbled a smartphone from her pocket. She passed the device to Vi who chuckled as she paged through several informal photos, she peered closer, could these have really been taken at. ..no, it couldn't be.

"Funeral selfies?" She whispered, "You've gotta be kidding me."

"At least two that I've seen, the R&R department got a hit on the last one, Jimmy Breda.," Satsu pointed, "And that should be his plot over there."

"That's why you split up the squad. ..cover more ground?" Vi asked.

Satsu nodded before waving her to silence.

The girls arrived at the gravesite, the smell of freshly turned earth and sod filled the night air.

"And now we hope Jimmy won't keep us waiting long." Vi hissed, a little too loudly to judge by Satsu's annoyed grimace.

The girls waited in silence, well Satsu waited in silence. Vi was determined to fill the conversation void and was obviously still intrigued by Xander's new hanky-panky fueled lifestyle.

"What do you think they do together?"

"Who?" Satsu asked feigning ignorance.

"Xander and this witch?"

"Bayonetta,"

"Whatever, what's she doing to him?"

"She locks him in a bondage suit and has her way with him."

"You think?

Satsu sighed trying hard not to be annoyed by Vi and her naiveté. "No dummy," she snapped, " I think Xander had a blind date with someone who likes a lot of sex, and unlike a lot of guys, Xander isn't being a wuss about it."

"No offense, but how would you know anything about guys and sex don't you play for the...ah, other team?"

Satsu's eyebrow raised, "So because I'm into chicks I'm supposed to be ignorant about the other half of the species?"

A rustling sound saved Vi from further embarrassment. Both girls shut up so they could hear it clearly. Satsu saw it first. A teenaged boy, Jimmy, apparently, forcing his way out of the grave in which he'd been interred.

His sandy hair clashed with the pale skin and ruddy complexion of his vampiric appearance; his game face, as the Slayers had come to know it.

He was already growling and snarling even as he pulled his undead carcass from the soft earth.

"Braaaains," he moaned shuffling towards them.

"Ah, you're a vampire, not a zombie." Satsu hinted.

The boy paused, "Really? A...Vampire? " in a more normal voice.

Both girls nodded,

Jimmy looked at himself, "Shouldn't I be sparkling or something?"

Satsu sighed, "That's Twilight and they only sparkle in the sun, it's night."

Jimmy nodded, "Thanks, so I guess I get to. ..ah... to suck your blood then right." He winked at the pair.

"You could try but we're Vampire Slayers." Satsu replied, rolling her eyes.

"So you kill vampires?"

"Normally yes."

"And I'm a vampire."

"Evidently," Satsu dryly commented.

"You're kind of hot for vampire hunters,"

"You wasting your time hitting on her," Vi snorted, "She's not into guys."

Jimmy gaped, "Wow, that was so inappropriate." He replied while rubbing his stomach.

"What, what did i say?" Vi asked, "how is that a bad thing?"

Jimmy looked ready to answer but Satsu's restraining hand stopped him.

"It's not a big deal," She sighed.

Satsu was used to being "The Other Gay Slayer" a position formerly occupied solely by Willow Rosenberg's girlfriend Kennedy. Satsu however unwittingly grabbed the spotlight by being Buffy Summers one and only walk on the Sappho side.

If Buffy or the others were jerks about it, Satsu could've been sardonic or even catty. It was however the group's determined insistence "being cool" about it that was mildly annoying. She'd become yet another of Buffy's failed relationships and as such often found people giving her you-poor-little-girl looks.

Still It was better than Xander's lot in life. Bayonetta had become another punchline in the ongoing joke that was Xander Harris and the string of hyper dangerous females he'd crushed on, hooked up with or been stalked by including Buffy.

Jimmy's frightened screams cut off Satsu's thoughts. Suddenly he gasped dropping to the ground clutching at his middle and wailing in pain..

"It hurts!" he yelled at them both, "they said it wouldn't hurt."

"Who's they, what's wrong with you?" Satsu shouted.

Jimmy couldn't answer,screeching and groaning,. His face and body clearly twisted by unspeakable agony.

He desperately tore at the suit he'd been buried in. His thin pale chest exposed, the Slayers were horrified to see his stomach and chest bulging outward.

Something like a hand clawed and tore at the undead flesh as if Jimmy were a cocoon, a cocoon from which emerged a grotesque malformed ... thing. It stood up from the remains of the body of Jimmy Breda.

It screeched and flexed sharp claws while an inhuman face almost like a porcelain mask cackled while gnashing sharp teeth.

Vi backed away gasping in disbelief. "What in the hell is that?" She yelled at her partner.

The thing wailed again, a mournful screeching eerily similar to that of the now dead fledgling vampire.

A set of wings forced themselves out of the misshapen carapace on the creature's back even as a corona of light burst into being above its head.

It flapped the wings testing them before beating them quickly as if testing their ability to carry its weight.

Staring at them with a mix of pain, suffering and hatred in its eyes, the thing screeched again. It reached out clutching at a nearby wrought iron fence, snapping off a long spindle brandishing it threateningly at the Slayers as if it were a spear.

"What the Hell is that?" Vi repeated.

Satsu looked around that cemetery strewn with statues.

The creature's resemblance to the figures in each carved tableaux gave the Slayer a twisted inspiration.

"I think ... I think that it's some kind of angel." Satsu whispered as the creature advanced.

"An angel?" Vi asked disbelieving.

"You got a better idea?"

"How do you kill it?"

"I don't have a clue." Satsu replied.


End file.
